


At a Loss

by MadameHyde



Series: Thank You, for Fighting Racial Injustice [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Language, god they're so cute, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameHyde/pseuds/MadameHyde
Summary: Hilda’s birthday is coming up, and Caspar has no idea what to get her. Luckily, the rest of the Black Eagles might have some ideas.A gift for Roxyryoko!
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: Thank You, for Fighting Racial Injustice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769959
Comments: 26
Kudos: 28





	At a Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roxyryoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxyryoko/gifts).



> A gift for the lovely Roxyryoko!
> 
> If you're curious about the collection, [come hang out on twitter!](https://twitter.com/MadsHatter1)
> 
> Otherwise, hang out and enjoy Hyde outside her comfort zone

Caspar von Bergliez was at a complete and utter loss. 

He was great with problems you could sink your fists into, and not so great with problems that required theoretical answers. And so when Hilda’s birthday came up after a handful of months of dating, he hadn’t the faintest idea of what he was supposed to get her for it. She always gave vague, unhelpful answers like “oh, anything” or “I’m sure I’ll love whatever it is,” which admittedly drove Caspar a little insane.

So he went to the smartest man he knew.

Linhardt was yawning all through homeroom, as per usual, completely ignoring Caspar’s plight. “Hilda’s a girl, right? Just get her girl things.”

Caspar stared at him, mouth slightly agog. “If I could think of _what_ girl things, I wouldn’t be asking you!”

Linhardt paused, as though he hadn’t considered this. “Very well. Hubert?” The dark mage turned from where he sat in the front of the room. “What did you get Edelgard for her birthday?”

Hubert blinked a few times at the question. “A collection of letters attributed to Emperor Ionius VII, why?”

“Augh, that’s so _good_ though!” Caspar said.

“So get her a book,” Linhardt said. “See? Problem solved.”

Caspar shot him a dirty look. “Hilda’s not really a ‘book’ person, Linhardt.”

Linhardt’s eyebrows raised. “She’s not?”

Caspar groaned and thumped his head into his notes. He was doomed, and so was his relationship.

He felt a gentle pat on his shoulder a moment later, and found Dorothea standing over him. “You know Hilda likes pretty things,” she said, kindly. “I can help you pick out some jewelry or flowers for her?”

“She already has those, though.” Caspar tried not to pay any attention to how red his face had grown. “I, y’know, want it to be special.”

“ _Oh.”_ Dorothea stretched the word into three syllables, and her grin grew a touch conspiratorial. “I _see.”_

Caspar was immediately on his guard. “Dorothea, I swear—”

That was, naturally, the moment Professor Byleth swept in, and so further talk of Caspar’s love life was silenced by the morning’s lecture.

-)

It wasn’t often that Caspar had company on the training grounds after dinner, except sometimes Felix Fraldarius. They would usually nod to each other and go about their business, or occasionally hold up targets for the other, but generally speaking, they left each other alone.

But today, Felix was not there, and so Caspar was left to do his warmups in silence. The rhythmic thumping of his fists against the training dummies all but drowned out the world. It was quiet here, peaceful. He didn’t have to worry about birthday presents for girls—or worse yet, screwing up said birthday present for said girl.

Until he heard a voice, very clearly over his shoulder: “Hello, Caspar? I heard you’re—ahh!”

It was a testament to Ferdinand’s quick reflexes that Caspar hadn’t clocked him when he turned. “What the hell, Ferdinand!” Caspar shouted. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Erm,” said Ferdinand, brushing dirt from his uniform pants, “I did, upon entering. I wasn’t sure if you heard me.”

“Oh.” Caspar scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, what’s up?”

“I heard you’re looking for something to get Hilda for her birthday, and thought I might offer my assistance.”

Caspar had to stop himself from putting his face in his hand, partially because it was sweaty, and partially because Ferdinand was second to only Lorenz in the “Tragically dateless” department. “That’s nice of you,” Caspar said, “But I got this.”

“Oh!” Ferdinand brought his hands together excitedly. “So you’ve thought of something, then? Let’s hear it.”

“Err,” said Caspar. “Well, no. But I’m working on it!”

“Isn’t Hilda’s birthday this weekend?”

“I know!” Caspar loosed a frustrated punch into the training dummy’s torso. “I know. I just… I want it to _mean_ something, you know?” 

“Of course you do,” Ferdinand said. “That’s how gifts work.”

“No, no.” Caspar desperately wished this were a problem he could punch—either Hilda’s present, or Ferdinand, he wasn’t fussy at this point. “Like… _she’s_ special, you know? So it has to be, too.”

The biggest smile Caspar had ever seen spread across Ferdinand’s face. “And you don’t want to do flowers?”

“Too wilty.”

“Or jewelry?”

“Too impersonal.”

“Or one of those hairclips from the market?”

“She has like, twelve already.”

“Perfect.” Ferdinand brought his hands together so loudly, he startled Caspar. “Then I know just the thing.”

-)

After an exceedingly romantic dinner at the mess hall for her birthday, Hilda declared she wanted to go for a walk, and so off they went.

“...and professor Byleth is just working us _sooo_ hard,” Hilda was saying as they rounded the quiet of the courtyard, “don’t you think?”

“Eh?” said Caspar. “Sorry, I missed that.”

Hilda stopped just before him, putting her hands on her hips. “You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?”

“I have!” Caspar defended. “I just…” His face caved in on itself in an expression Hilda wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before.

“Caspar?” Hilda said, coming to rest beside him. “Are you okay?”

“Um.” His face lit up like a firecracker, and Hilda wasn’t sure whether to find it cute or concerning. “Here!” He pressed a somewhat crinkled envelope into her hands. “If you want to read it, I’ll just, um, go over there.”

“Of course I want to read it,” Hilda said. “It has my name on it.”

And it did, written in Caspar’s blockish scrawl. She broke the seal as he found a place to hide behind one of the pillars, and began to read.

_Dear Hilda,_

_I really struggled with what to get you for your birthday. Everything I thought of just didn’t seem like it fit, you know? I wanted to make sure you knew that you were special and important to me, so here goes:_

_You are special. And you are so important. And you aren’t nearly as artificial as you like to pretend that you are. There’s a real person, under there—not Holst’s little sister, or Claude’s friend, but you_, _in there._

_And I want you to know that that’s what I love about you, okay? I have plenty of land and titles and whatever, and so do you. I don’t want you around for what you can give me, I want you around because I like spending time with you._

_And that’s also why you aren’t allowed to read this letter if I’m anywhere nearby. I think I might die of embarrassment. But I mean every word. I promise._

_Yours,_

_Caspar_

Hilda stood frozen to the ground for a moment, stunned. There was a wetness forming in the corners of her eyes, and a lump had suddenly grown in her throat. She glanced around for a moment, looking for a head of electric-blue hair, and for a moment, saw nothing. Her stomach dropped, and she dug her nails into her hands to will herself not to cry.

And then, he poked his head out from behind one of Garreg Mach’s many pillars. His eyes went wide at the sight of her, and he practically ran back to her. “Hilda? Hilda, are you—oof!”

She drew him into the biggest hug she had possibly ever given, and Caspar felt his spine crack in three places.

“Thank you,” she got out, burying her nose in the crook of his neck. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you.”_

“Oh,” said Caspar. He relaxed, arms going around her to squeeze back just as tightly. “Happy birthday, Hilda. I’m glad you’re here.”

He then received the fiercest kiss of his entire life, and Caspar von Bergliez was at a complete loss once again.

This time was okay, though.


End file.
